


Boil Over

by audiopilot



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fondling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 04:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audiopilot/pseuds/audiopilot
Summary: After being downed by Ghost Face, Kate's determination to do everything to escape his grasp creates an awkward situation.





	Boil Over

When Kate was very little, she was afraid of the dark.

She would beg her parents for one more story, one more lullaby, anything to stop them from tucking the covers up to her chin and turning off the lights. Even the nightlight she'd had as long as she could remember didn't stop the way the shadows would close in once her mom and dad left her alone. Terrified, she would stare around her room, convinced something was waiting behind her dresser or watching from inside her closet. She imagined it dragging claws against the walls to rend the wallpaper and crunch the drywall underneath between its teeth. Kate would cover her ears, humming as loud as she dared to blot it out and thinking of ponies and funnel cakes and anything but the terror of the darkness.

Eventually, she would throw off her covers and run to her parents' bed to crawl into safety between them. Convinced not even the worse monsters could grab her ankles from there.

That was nothing compared to her current life. A twisted nightmare where Kate was subject to torture in the form of constant trials of survival against monstrous beings. She had lost count of how many times she experienced death, only to find herself back at the same campfire again, listening to the crackling wood and chirping crickets. The only music here was what she made herself.

She was unable to wake up and there was no one to hold her and whisper that everything was fine.

The same wasn't true for all the survivors. Kate couldn't help but watch Claudette and Meg where they sat close across the fire with their arms around one another. 

It was the usual lull where the survivors excluded from current trials gathered around the campfire to wait for their turn. Kate hadn't been called, which was fine with her. She tapped her fingers against the guitar in her lap, thinking of what chords she could string together when Claudette playfully tugged on one of Meg's braids. Laughing, Meg turned her head to the side, so the back of Claudette's fingers touched her cheek and slid gently downwards. Both women went very serious as they stared into each other's eyes.

Kate looked away. Her chest went tight and, just like that, the beat of a new song filled her mind.

Humming, Kate tugged the strings until what was in her head poured out into the air. Gentle and sweet as skin on skin. Eyes closed, Kate nodded as she improvised the next chord set, letting the pauses in between lengthen as the notes reverberated beneath her fingertips.

Her mom always said there was magic in the thing; the Denson gift of musical inclination, and Kate still believed her despite the stifling weight of an eternity spent running in circles.

The guitar was a solid and familiar weight. Why the entity allowed her to keep it, she had no idea, but she was thankful all the same. Without it she might have gone insane. It gave her something to do besides think of the last trial's failures or the next trial's horrors. Playing music had always been as vital as breathing. Now it served as a thin thread of hope, a form of creation rising out of all the destruction.

Kate let the song end slowly, trailing the last few notes, and scattered applause brought her attention back on the other survivors. Dipping her head, Kate grinned back at her small audience. It wasn’t the same as all the audiences she’d held before, in size or arena, but the raw appreciation spoke to her.

"That was beautiful," a voice came from behind her. Kate twisted to look up at Laurie. The other survivor never smiled, but something about her face was softer as she sat beside Kate. 

"Thank you," replied Kate. She idly strummed a few more notes, considering the other woman. She was very striking, all in blue, and Kate wondered where the she had been but didn’t ask. Lack of privacy meant survivors regularly wandered the forest for solitude as much as they searched for items and offerings. "Any requests?"

Laurie's profile was blank from where she faced the fire. She was silent for so long that Kate thought she was being ignored until finally Laurie shrugged.

"No... what you were playing was nice."

"I can play it again," Kate offered, and started the song again before Laurie could reply one way or the other. Playing it over allowed her to make changes, tweaking the notes until they felt right. Again, she thought of the two across the campfire and put it into the song, tapping her foot along with the tune. Any happiness here was bittersweet, but she tried her best to filter out the bitterness. 

Kate was letting her fingers trail over the strings in the song's end when she noticed it. Like ants crawling on her skin, the pull of the entity signaled that it was her time for a trial. She sighed and closed her eyes. It made it less disorienting. She didn’t open them again until she smelled rain. The air was full of green and petrichor, on the verge of a storm that never quite got close enough. The gentle fall of raindrops hitting the shack roof was a peaceful sound despite the grim sight of the basement stairs beside her.

The start of a match always left her fuzzy. Like the borders of her skin and skull were indiscriminate to the warped area they were forced inside. After a quick peek around for an obvious totem or chest, Kate began to fiddle with the generator in the center of the shack. If she could finish it quickly, then it would help everyone to avoid the area unnecessarily. There was nothing worse than being hooked in the basement, in Kate’s opinion. She’d been trapped in the stairwell too many times to count.

It was very quiet. Kate listened intently over the grind of the generator. No chainsaws or screams. She was already a third of the way through it based on the building whine and nothing had revealed the killer’s identity. Her pulse throbbed in her throat. The silent killers were nerve wrecking. Glancing from the doors to the window, Kate resisted the urge to get up and check outside the shack’s walls. Every moment counted and she had a pallet and window to easily get away. That was all Kate needed to lose a killer.

Yet she still felt unsteady the longer her progress was uninterrupted and no one else was attacked.

Maybe she was she the one being watched?

The creep of anxiety was like a delicate spiderweb trailing between her shoulder blades. As she got closer to finishing her repairs, she felt reckless, determined to complete it.

Outside, soft footsteps disturbed the mud so quietly she almost missed it under the falling rain. Kate let go of the generator so fast that she accidentally dropped a spark plug. Bouncing across the worn, wooden boards of the floor, Kate followed its progress as she held her breath. It rolled to a stop against a black boot.

Kate swallowed.

Following the boot up to a dark leg, she took in the ragged end of a black coat with growing dread. Shreds of fabric flared out from broad shoulders below a black hood with a long, white face nestled in its center, features stretched into an exaggerated scream. Empty eyes stared back at her.

Ghost Face stood in the doorway.

She sprung to her feet, running to the other door. _Don’t panic_, she thought, and it was in Feng Min’s voice as she showed Kate how she vaulted so fast. But her heart dropped into her belly, heavy and pounding. She had been marked. One hit was all Ghost Face needed. She wouldn’t let him have it.

Kate went around the long side, looking through the cracks in the wall to see him chasing after her. At the corner she hesitated to make sure he was following and not trying to cut her off by double-backing before sprinting through the shack. Kate grabbed the window with both hands. Up she swung, feet on the edge. She swore he was breathing on the back of her neck.

_Push off with your feet and land running_, Feng Min had coached. Kate leaped and the mud splashed up her legs as she headed through a copse of trees and bushes. Let the ground eat her footprints, make _her _the ghost.

Crouching behind green leaves, she held one hand over her mouth the muffle her breathing as she watched Ghost Face emerge from the shack. Despite the lack of tracks, he headed right in her direction and Kate shivered. It was almost like he could see her.

She might have been caught if Kate hadn't grown used to wrangling her panic and keeping a clear head during a chase. Shuffling around, she kept the plants between them as a buffer from Ghost Face stalking forward. 

Unfortunately, Dwight chose that moment to poke his head up from where he was searching a nearby chest. Kate opened her mouth to shout a warning, but Ghost Face pounced with a sudden burst of speed. He buried the knife in Dwight's back, twisting it before dragging it free to create a jagged wound. It looked messy and painful as Dwight cried out. He hobbled away, holding onto his side, and Kate snapped her mouth shut as Ghost Face cleaned his knife before following. A little curdle of guilt threatened to way on her, but Kate shook her head. There was nothing she could do now with no items on hand and her exposed status.

Past huge tree stumps, Kate spotted the two-story cabin through the mist that clung to the pines. Their sagging needles pointed down like knives, fat droplets hitting her head as she walked towards it. Sharp branches stuck out from the roof like a twisted crown. With one more cautious, backward glance, Kate ran past stacks of cut logs towards one of the cabin's several entrances. She couldn't see Ghost Face anymore; surely, he was chasing his new quarry. 

Passing through a cloud of flies hovering over stripped bones, Kate remembered a generator was always on the uncovered part of the second floor. Despite the danger still screaming at her to hide, the time Dwight had inadvertently given would be better spent on a generator. The larger interior room was lit by a chandelier of antlers, table set with flickering candles. More created dim shadows on the staircase and Kate wiped away the rain on her face as she made her way deeper into the room.

She had escaped for now. Like the long walk down the hallway to her parents’ room, there was only one way out and a monster waiting at her back. So, Kate was cautious with Ghost Face still outside somewhere; either Dwight was doing a great job as distraction or Ghost Face had switched priorities. The click of her boots against the floorboards seemed too loud. As she passed the stone fireplace a distant pop meant someone had finished a generator. One foot on the stairs, Kate smiled slightly in relief only to shriek in surprise when she saw Ghost Face crouched at the top of the stairs. He raised his knife and the edge of it red with fresh blood. Standing, he rushed at her, taking two steps at a time, and Kate spun on her heel.

It was too soon for her tired muscles to make enough distance through a window to try and escape again like before, but she could use it to at least avoid getting stabbed. She rounded a locker, regretting not climbing inside of it, and made for the window on the other side.

As she threw herself through it, she was yanked backwards. Ghost Face had grabbed the waistband of her shorts, the denim cutting into her skin as she was hauled up onto his bony shoulder. The punch of it hitting her stomach knocked the breath clear of her lungs, but Kate still struggled with all her strength. Through the hair stuck to her face she could see the hook right outside the cabin.

_Don’t see it_, she silently begged. She beat her fists against his back and struggled despite the hand painfully digging into her back. He smelled like cheap cologne, alcohol filling her nose and mouth in burning fumes. He took a few steps away from the window and Kate wiggled with even more ferocity. Ghost Face was one of the normal-sized killers; even with his entity-given strength he stumbled sideways. Kate kicked her heels back.

One actually connected with his face and Ghost Face gave a soft grunt. Kate gasped as she was half-dropped, sliding backwards. Her near escape was stalled when he grappled to keep a hold on her body. He must have tucked away his knife since she didn’t feel it slicing her open despite both his hands grabbing at her. Now her chest took the brunt of her weight, breasts uncomfortably crushed by his shoulder and she tried to shift further down to break free. One hand grabbed her thigh, forearm pressing against the back of both knees to keep her legs tight as the other hand landed on her ass.

“Hey!” Kate shouted, affronted when fingers dug into her cheek. He was trying to pull her back up even as Kate was able to bring an arm around and shove at his mask. The plastic was slippery, her sweaty palm sliding across the long curve of the stretched mouth, but underneath was a solid face and she pushed as hard as she could. Ghost Face sighed but refused to release her. Kate twisted her hips, wanting his hands off of her.

Unfortunately, he moved at the same time.

His hand slipped between her legs.

Kate froze. The entire length of it was snug against her. Her clit was trapped under the tip of one of his fingers, squeezed by the seam of her jeans up against her pubic bone. The intense pressure left her insides squirming. The edge of his pressed her opening created a flood of warmth that shivered down her legs. His gloved thumb was treacherously close to the edge of her shorts, leather slick between her bare thighs.

Face hot, Kate was too aware of not only her own panting but Ghost Face’s ragged breathing. Neither moved. 

His thumb twitched closer, passing under the hem to brush where her upper thigh ended. With every nerve ending so heightened, even that tiny movement seemed huge. It was all she could think about. Ghost Face wasn’t dragging her to a hook or casting her to the ground. It was almost like he was testing her reaction. Again, Kate tried to control her breathing, this time for an entirely different reason as she resisted the urge to spread her legs wider.

She hadn’t been touched like this since being stuck here. Sure, some survivors patted her back or gave a quick hug after a tough trial, but that was all. Not that some didn’t express their interest; David’s lingering glances and Ace’s teasing weren’t something she entirely ignored. But once she let their harmless flirting turn into something more then there would be no going back. Unlike when she’d been alive, there was no avoiding each other if it went south. And it would go that way, Kate was certain, by the entity’s influence if not by themselves. Better to keep it casual, she’d decided long ago.

Her body was confused. That’s all that it was. If she wasn’t going to get that close with another survivor, then there was no way she would with a killer. Especially a creep like Ghost Face.

Despite her resolution, Kate didn’t struggle, tense but waiting to see if would keep going. Ghost Face was breathing so loud behind the mask that made him too human. The longer nothing happened the more awkward it became as her earlier fear drained away.

Tentatively she cleared her throat. Ghost Face’s thumb pressed hard and sudden against her opening, pushing against her underwear and dragging the cotton against her sensitive skin. Kate squeaked in shock. 

_Was this really happening? __Was she going to _let_ it happen?_

Mouth dry, Kate stared at what she could see of the mask, turned away and half-hidden by the dark leather of his hood. Her fingers tightened where they held onto his coat. “Let me go!”

Kate’s demand died on her tongue when the knuckle of his thumb rubbed back and forth, from end to end, in one long motion. Low between her legs, her muscles went tight. It should have been violating, should have made her skin crawl and left her calling him a pervert and fighting to get back on her own feet.

But she liked it.

She couldn’t help the spasm of her thighs pressing closer together, keeping his hand right where it was, when he did it again. Worse, a moan crawled free of her throat. It echoed back to her in the small alcove, a breathy sound that Kate almost couldn’t believe had come from herself.

Ghost Face ripped the hand between her legs away and she grunted in surprise at the violent motion. The other hand released her as well and Kate almost fell. She landed, shaky but on both feet, and then quickly shuffled away to put a foot of distance between them. Through the darkness, Ghost Face was half-lit by the burning candles, shadows shifting across the pale face of his mask.

Looking up into it, her clit throbbed, yearning for hands back on her. Awareness of how she might appear left her shifting. She could tell her shorts had ridden up too high and her shirt was twisted, hair a mess and nipples obviously tight under her bra. But fixing them or covering herself would have been too much like a performance under the weight of Ghost Face’s gaze.

The moment stretched, pulled thin as neither of them went back to the cat and mouse game of attempted murder. She didn't trust it to last and yet she wasn't afraid. She'd experienced the entity's strings of forced survival tugging her in every direction for so long that the lull of being free of them for even a short time felt nice.

What did he want? Was he waiting for something from her? There was only one way to find out.

“Aren't you going to—” Kate choked on the question when his gloved fingers captured a lock of her hair. He moved it aside from where it hung in her face before his fingers slid down the length of it so gently that she barely felt the tug on her scalp. It reminded her of how he cleaned off his knife between stabs, which should have been unnerving. 

It also reminded her of Claudette and Meg, and that did bother her enough that Kate took another careful step back. She glanced down at his knife, hidden in a leather sheath at his hip. He raises a single finger in front of the mask’s open mouth.

_Shh,_ was the silent command.

More confused than ever, Kate watched him pull out his old camera instead of the knife. The same one he used to take pictures as he killed survivors. A flutter of panic was all she had time to experience as the flash blinded her. When she blinked away the bright afterimages, Ghost Face was vaulting the window. Instead of taking the chance to run, Kate was unmoving as he glanced back at her one more time, raised his wrist and tapped it like there was a watch there.

_Another time._

Ghost Face waved almost cheerfully before disappearing behind the cabin’s log wall.

Standing in the darkness of the cabin, with the needy tingling of her hungry skin her only company and wet inside and out, Kate didn’t know whether to be relieved or affronted.

Either way she was in so much trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [ImaginaryBunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaginaryBunny/pseuds/ImaginaryBunny) for the pairing inspiration with their fic Killer Instinct. Though this a more lighthearted take. ❤️


End file.
